


Writing

by WeMadeMonsters



Category: American (US) Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Depression, Drabble, One Shot, Other, Sad, Seasonal Affective Disorder, purposefully ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeMadeMonsters/pseuds/WeMadeMonsters
Summary: It is an overcast day in Boston, and you are not feeling your best. 1335 words of comfort fic.TW: talk of SAD/depression.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Reader, Chris Evans (Actor)/You
Kudos: 20





	Writing

It’s one of those overcast days, where it’s not snowing but the sky threatens to unleash something at any moment. Chris is on set, but he texted a while ago to let you know he might be home early. Something about the weather, he didn’t really explain, and you didn’t want to tie him up with questions.

Not when you were supposed to be writing, anyway. You were working on your second book, spurred on by all the spare time you had in the pandemic. However, the shortening days had quite the impact on your ability to turn out pages; and at that particular moment instead of sitting with your laptop, you were curled up in the bed with Dodger. You had slept later than you’d meant to, and Dodger’s small complaints every time you attempted to move were enough to convince you to stay put.

Huddling under the covers, you scrolled through the emails from your literary agent, reminding you of deadlines and word-counts, deleting a few of the more redundant ones. That counted as work, right?

The feeling of Dodger shifting on the bed and then jumping off was enough to finally get you to peek your head out from under the blanket. “Et tu, Dodge?” You asked as the mutt shook himself and snorted over his shoulder at you before trotting out of the bedroom. You were left truly alone then, with only the lion plush that Dodger had drug onto the bed sometime earlier for company. Sighing heavily, you would slowly begin to unentangle yourself from the blankets, slipping your feet into the fuzzy grey mule slippers on your side of the bed.

Shuffling into the kitchen, you would let Dodger out before taking your favourite mug out of the cupboard. Grumbling quietly to yourself about waking up and the passage of time, you filled the electric kettle and plugged it in just as Dodger’s sharp barks let you know that he was ready to come in. As you set aside your mug to allow the tea to steep, your eyes landed on a note on the counter, in Chris’s familiar writing.

“Good luck writing today, babe. Love you”

The gesture was small, but it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The two of you hadn’t talked about how you were feeling lately, but you knew Chris well enough to know he’d picked up on the fact that you were feeling down… Even if you were trying to hide it. You were putting on a brave face when he was home and letting yourself wallow when he wasn’t. Sniffling, you would put the note down, pushing it across the marble countertop. Chris was an affectionate romantic, and you were still adjusting to being on his level. In a way, you were glad he wasn’t there at that moment, it would have been hard to explain that seven words felt like almost too much to handle.

Wiping your eyes on the backs of your arms, you’d pick up your mug of tea, tossing the teabag in the compost can under the sink before shuffling off to the small room the two of you had designated as your office. It was a cozy room near the front of the house, and Dodger would trot after you, curling up in the dog bed in the corner of the room as you sat down behind your desk. Running your hand through your hair, you’d sigh to yourself as you woke up the computer, opening the yet untitled manuscript as well as your notes. You still weren’t feeling it, but Chris’s note made you feel like trying, at the very least.

A few hours and a few paragraphs later, you heard Chris pulling into the driveway. Or more accurately, Dodger leapt out of his bed and began skittering towards the door and under the noise you heard the sound of tires against gravel. Puffing out your cheeks, you would run your hand through your hair once more, attempting to shape it into something presentable as if that would be enough to convince him that you’d made an attempt on that day.

You could hear Chris laughing in the foyer with Dodger, and you made your way there too. Taking in the sight of Chris half-kneeling on the floor and hugging his dog was enough to have you almost tear up again. You were next, however, and you found yourself wrapped up in Chris’s strong arms before he’d even taken his jacket off. Once he let you go, you’d take his jacket as he sat down to take off his boots, hanging it for him and crossing your arms as you turned to watch him.

He looked good, like usual, and you’d push back into his arms as he stood, pressing a kiss to his lips which he returned with a small hum of happiness.

“Good day?”

Chris nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips and then your forehead before letting you go. “Yeah. Well, mostly. We were scheduled to shoot some outdoors scenes today, but the weather…” He shrugged. “I like coming home early when you’re here to come home to.”

“Yeah.” His affection was causing some small bloom of hope to grow in your chest, like a tiny bit of gold to balance out all the grey you felt coursing through your veins.

“How about you? Good day?”

“Yeah… I…” You trailed off, suddenly unable to meet his eyes directly, but you could just picture the small line appearing between his eyebrows as you shrugged. “Actually, not so much. Can… Can we talk about it?”

“Of course.” Wrapping you up in another tight hug, Chris would hold you for a few moments before letting go, slipping an arm around your shoulders to guide you towards the living room couch. He sat down first, and then held his arms out to you. You were only too grateful to slip into his lap, pressing into him as Dodger hopped up on the couch to settle in beside the two of you.

For a few minutes you were silent, the side of your head pressed into Chris’s collarbone as you picked at his shirt with one hand and tried to organize your thoughts. Chris rubbed your back gently as you sat there, clearly content to not push you to talk about it.

“I think my SAD is acting up pretty bad this year.” Was what you finally came up with, and Chris would nod before pressing his lips to the top of your head, letting you continue. “I don’t know. It feels like it’s been so dark all the time lately, and the pandemic isn’t helping anything… It feels like I’ve been moving underwater. And that everything sucks.”

“I know, Y/N. It’s been a rough year.” His voice was gentle, one hand still supporting your back as the other reached around to rub against your thighs. “Thank you for telling me that you’re not feeling that great. I’m really glad you’re letting me know. Do you have any ideas about what you want to do about it yet? Do you want to talk about that?”

Shrugging a little, you’d curl tighter into Chris’s body. You weren’t sure if you genuinely didn’t know, or if you simply wanted to resist the things you knew would help you.

“Well, we could start by finding your SAD lamp… I think we put it in the hall closet when you moved in? And I can get my therapist to give me a few recommendations of people for you to see? I can text him tonight, if you want.”

It would take you a few moments, but eventually you’d nod. “That sounds like a good start. Thank you, Chris.”

“Yeah, of course.” Wrapping his arms around you a little tighter, Chris would press his lips to the top of your head again.

“Can we stay like this a little while longer first, though?”

“Of course, Y/N. As long as you want.”


End file.
